Nobody, Not Even the Rain, Has Such Small Hands
by LackLuster99
Summary: Abandoned -- life got me too busy and lost focus on this. I will let the three chapters stand for what they are -- and you can imagine how the rest of the stories go. If anyone wants to complete this, go ahead.
1. Chapter 1

In the faint glow of evening, under the soft kiss of candle-light, Rukia turned the thick page of the Kuchiki-family history scroll

In the faint glow of evening, under the soft kiss of candle-light, Rukia turned the thick page of the Kuchiki-family history scroll. The foreign touch of the house buzzed through the night air, and her fingers trembled slightly as her eyes sifted through her adopted family history. Her stomach churned when her violet gaze touched the black curves of her sister's name.

_Kuchiki-Hisana_

"Hisana."

She let her mouth stretch, her tongue twist, and her breath flow as she repeated the name out loud.

Never had her brother allowed her access to the Kuchiki library. It had been a forbidden room…or at least forbidden to her. Upon first arriving to the manor, she had not questioned the restriction. Then, so many years ago, she had hardly believed that the Kuchiki home was her rightful place. Yet, now here she was; a small girl in a large room.

It smelt dry, like paper. The air was aging with the hard bindings of elderly volumes. Consequently, Rukia's first trip into this room had been one of solemnity and reverence, for she knew she was entering a world much more delicate and impressive than even the finest atriums of Soul Society's grandiose buildings. The Kuchiki-manor was one of the oldest structures in the world of the dead….and the library held its secrets.

This particular night was Rukia's third time in the library. Her first had been a special occasion just a few days after the revelation of Aizen and the pardoning of her own sins. Byakuya was still ill and laid up in the healing halls. However, upon re-entering the Kuchiki house, she had quietly, timidly entered here, if only to find some evidence of what Byakuya had told her. She had secretly hoped to see an image of her sister here…but, she had only found labyrinths of tomes.

Her second trip had been accompanied by her brother, who now found no reason to keep her from the room. He had remained quite stiff and silent throughout their survey of the gallery, yet he had pointed her to the right direction of family histories and records. On that particular occasion he seemed loath to look at the books himself, but merely left her alone to sift through the papers.

Presently, Rukia began to read hungrily the story of Byakuya and Hisana, well what had been stoically recorded in staunch family history.

_There were several objections to the lady by members of both the noble Kuchiki Family and several adjuncts of Central Room 46, however, those complaints were stricken from official records after the ascension of Lord Byakuya as Head of the Kuchiki family. _

_Though the marriage was infertile due to the ill-health of the Lady Hisana, both parties lived in matrimonial bliss. Lady Hisana was an active pursuer of the arts, the cultivation of young minds, and the rights of those less fortunate in the lower castes and crevices of our World._

"Rukia—can your eyes stand the strain of reading in the dark."

She jumped, startled by the break in the thick silence. Her heart began to beat wildly, as she took in the grey silhouette of her brother, standing against the door frame. His eyes seemed to glow through the grayness, his soft features blotted by the poor light of only two candles. He wore only his white sleeping garments, his hair was loose, softly covering his broad shoulders. Intrepid and devastatingly graceful, he crossed the threshold of the room and came to stand next to his sister, who could do nothing but watch him in awkward silence, afraid she had done something wrong.

"Are you reading about Hisana?" he asked. For a moment, his eyes seemed to darken and his body language became closed, angry and severe. Yet, it passed when she nodded her trembling head. Then, he did something all together surprising. He sat down next to her.

"Those records. They are full of half-truths, half-knowledge. I have never once looked at them, even after she died. It was all so empty, to write it down on a page. It was not so simple for us."

He was looking at her hands that draped over and covered the words on the scroll she had been reading. She sat still and silent; Rukia was afraid to speak lest he not continue. Only once had her brother confided anything to her. Only once had he shown her true emotion…now, again, his whole persona was melting into dew and he seemed to come alive before. Was this the man Hisana had loved?

"I…I have always been a proud man. Even as a boy, I was foolishly….vain."

He cleared his throat. Was this difficult for him?

"I was teased, all throughout the academy. If it wasn't from Yorouichi, it would be my class mates. I never spoke much to anyone. I never rose to the taunting of my peers, though for a long time I could not resist the temptation to prove my skills to those older and wiser than I. I was cold. I was angry for all my coldness. My bankai training was my obsession. My family was my blood and water. I was an empty shell."

"The more I trained, and even after graduating the academy, the less I could manifest and communicate with my zanpakuto. I had achieved Shikai early on. You can imagine the stir my advancement caused, though I was not the youngest Shinigami fresh out of school to attain the status of an officer or high seat in the Gotei 13. Ichimaru Gin had also been quite the protégée, not to mention the rogue, former lieutenant Hiyori and the present Hitsugaya. I had taken the third seat in Squad 6 as was traditionally customary for our noble house. Yet, I had reached a plateau…and my heart hardened even more as I saw my peers begin to soar through the ranks of the Gotei 13, bettering themselves, growing more intimate with their soul slayers. Now, here I was…merely swinging a dull Senbonzakura who would only scatter amongst my enemies, but never reveal her secrets of bankai."

Rukia nodded, her features tense and expectant in the kiss of the candlelight. She willed him to continue…greedy for information.

"No one knew of my trials…for my father was still vice-captain, my grandfather captain. Even had I obtained bankai, until the retirement or death of my elders, I could not hope to move forward. Many thought that I was merely biding my time for when the day of my ascension to captaincy should come, but I trained in vain."

"Pride. Confidence. Power. Ability. Strength. It is not that alone that makes a great man, a great soul slayer. I had not yet learned this. Blood, tradition, birth. These things have never been the true attributes of a great warrior."

Rukia smiled. What a different philosophy from his usual. What was it about this room…this evening that was turning her understanding of Kuchiki Byakuya upside down? She instinctively thought of Ichigo, probably asleep in his bed, finally under the roof of his own home…perhaps his sisters slept on the floor again, unaware or at least partially ignorant of his spirit power?

Quickly she returned her attention to the words of her brother.

"I had not understood this. I had not truly found the meaning, the pulse and purpose of my own power. I had no reason to fight other than to become a great warrior for my family. There was no reason other than that to reach bankai…Senbonzakura had much to teach me."

Then he turned to face her. It took all of Rukia's will power to meet his gaze…a gaze she had for so long feared to match…but now, his eyes were gentile and nearly warm.

"I have never told a soul about this, only Hisana." he said.

Abruptly he stood and meandered to the open porch that outlined the north side of the library. He leaned against the railing and Rukia inched forward to better hear his words.

"I believe it was Senbonzakura that lead me to your sister all those years ago. I can think of no other way, but there was something calling me to that area of Roukongai. I had no business there. I had no purpose to even leave Seiretei. But, I had woken in a restless confusion that morning, and my sword seemed to burn my side and my brain as I tried to fulfill my day's duties. I excused myself from paper work and began to wander aimlessly, hoping deep within that my sword's form would manifest and lead me towards advancement. I tried to listen to Senbonzakura. I faintly heard her melodic voice slither in and out of the wooded area I was traipsing through. One moment, I fancied her behind a tree, the next stumbling amongst the rocks of a brook. She was teasing me. I could feel it. The more she taunted the more angry I became. I must have looked frightful."

"She had been bathing her wounds in a cold, secluded pool hidden by the thick growth of pine and rocks." His voice grew thick and deliberate. This was difficult for him. Rukia closed her eyes. She wanted to picture this moment. She wanted to make it easy for Byakuya. She wanted to tell him that she believed him, he loved Hisana, truly, passionately, more so than he could convey with words."

"Her landlord had beaten and driven her out of the small room she had rented in the 77th district. She had been sleeping on the hard stone for days, attempting to heal, though her constant washings could not keep her wounds from succumbing to infection. There was a protruding black film that grew from several gashes on her shoulder and side. Her leg was swollen, she must have broken it in a fall. I could tell when I found her that she had acquired a serious fever. She had been eating berries and molded bread…her hunger told me she had some spirit power…but no energy to even stand or run away from me…though I looked so monstrous and on fire for revenge upon my sword. She merely lay against the wet rock and watched me approach her. She was loosing consciousness. Had I not been there, she would have fallen into the water and drowned. But…I knew that she saw me…and I could see, even in my rage, in my height of rietsu release…she was not afraid of me…

Later, she had said, that she believed I was the spirit, the great enchanted protector of the gods, who had come to escort her to her death"

"I carried her back to the manor, bypassing squad four. I felt certain that I had been lead to her, even then. There had been cheery blossoms in the water. Perhaps that is why she staid there, convinced the water was bewitched or divinely made, therefore it would heal her. However, I knew that the blossoms were unnatural, not because of secret magic, but that my soul slayer had orchestrated a meeting. Therefore, I wanted to heal and question her myself. I can not deny that I had felt my entire universe shift upon seeing her. She was beautiful even in her misery. Her violet eyes….eyes that unlocked my heart…I could not deny that to see them open again was my first priority. You have her eyes, Rukia."

He turned to look at her over his shoulder; his face was once again cold, as if the pain of recounting this moment was turning his heart into ice. The ashen tent under his eyes betrayed many sleepless nights. Yet Rukia knew that as he looked at her, he once again saw the face, the eyes, of his wife.

"I carried her all the way back to the manor. I had servants dress her wounds and bathe her in oil and water. I came to watch her, sleeping peacefully in one of our guest rooms. The family was all out…the house was quiet. I watched her for hours….waiting…waiting for a sign. She dreamed, muttered things in her sleep. I deduced that she had regularly been beaten and had lived a scattered and chaotic life. She mentioned a baby, a baby girl. I could not truly gather the relationship to the child or really much about her life other than misery and loss. I can't deny that something in me was stirring as her life seemed to unfold in unconscious cries. I felt myself touched, I left my place beside the bed and lay next to her."

He was silent for a long while.

"I lay my hand on her head and tried to soothe her with my rietsu. It was as if my fingers sunk into the supple silk of her hair. I had never truly touched a woman, other than my nurses and mother. I had never really felt desire…affection…or heart ache. But I felt it then. As I smelt the jasmine perfumes she had been bathed with, as I molded my own arms to the curves of her body, I began to weep silently. The reasons were beyond me. I had never cried as a grown man. I did not know her. My station was above hers exponentially. She was an alien in my house. Yet, here I was…holding her. Holding this stranger and crying out in despair for her. It was cruel to see a thing so beautiful hurt so copiously"

"It was there…in that moment, that Senbonzakura finally came out of her hiding and spoke to me. In the dimness of spreading evening, her vast, voluptuous veil slid down out of the spirit world and covered Hisana and I. She woke as the world faded into pink and silver. She smelt the air as it was cleansed, bathed in cherry blossom. She clasped onto my arm and nearly cried out. I nearly cried out."

Rukia stood and began to cross the room, longing to be close to her brother, to comfort him. Every word pulled out her heart and she imagined the feelings, the love she had felt in her own past…and the pain…and empathy was all she could feel in this moment. Byakuya's voice stonewalled, unable to continue, unable to describe the moment. Rukia knew, however, what happened next.

"And had Senbonzakura planned this from the beginning…to humble you…to show you true beauty in the world outside of mere battle? Had she given you something to truly protect?"

He nodded.

"We fought a long battle to gain credibility, to gain approval and permission to marry. She endured endless public and private ridicule. I worried about her endlessly. She was elegant, in her element, and unafraid. She loved me as I her. She worked wonders in just that short time we were together. I learned so much from her. I began to grow, evolve, and become stronger. Not long after our marriage I obtained bankai and vice-captaincy under my father."

He seemed to be tiring, his eyes were glossy and his voice strained. Rukia knew that the reason he was telling her all this was vibrating on the edge of his tongue, not yet ready to circulate into the room, but she waited patiently. He had told her this much, the rest would come.

"Rukia, I know. I have…observed…that the Kurosaki, Ichigo boy…has, not only given you life, he has given you his heart."

Rukia's stomach collided with her throat as it rose up hastily in the shock of the moment. No, she had not expected that to be said. How…how did Byakuya know?

"Nii-sama…I…how? I…" she began to stumble awkwardly with speech, ashamed that she could not answer him without flushing scarlet.

"You owe me no explanations. He does not deserve you. He is prideful and incessant in proving everything I have worked hard for and believed wrong and unjust…but then, I must be reminded that I am fallible. Rukia. I know, that it was Hisana's wish that you would attain happiness in your life. That you would be given the chance to exercise your strengths and your wisdom…a wisdom she saw in your eyes even as an infant. I have come here….I have told you a bit about Hisana and I. Loving a person, committing to them, is to choose a road of heart ache. Are you prepared to love and yearn? Are you prepared to face the world responsible not only for yourself, but for this boy…this…ryoka?" His stern, distant demeanor returned and gazed down upon her with incredulity.

"Nii-Sama," Rukia's brain was on fire. Yes. Yes she loved Ichigo. She had loved Ichigo from the day he had taken hold of her hands, gripping her as if she were the sword; she loved him as she pierced his heart with her spirit pressure and found in the dissipating cloud that all her energy had vanished into him, and he was her all. And now, now she could no longer deny it to her brother as she had so long attempted to. Ichigo had been afraid to touch her, had been afraid to embrace her, because of this…the disapproving eye of Byakuya. But now, now she must come clean with her heart. "I love him."

She said it with consternation, with deliberation, but mostly determination. She loved him just as passionately as Byakuya had loved Hisana. As Byakuya had looked upon the form of the one he would cleave to and love, Rukia had looked on Ichigo as a boy, scared and unsure with heart stretching love and desire. It was not something she could sedate forever within her soul…Byakuya knew this.

"Let it be that you love him. May he endeavor to deserve you. Rukia, I know what it is like to love a person, to die in their arms, and also know the pain of not having the support and love from your family. I tell you now, that I will not repeat the attitudes of my late father or grandfather in this matter, but that you should be free to love who you will."

And with that, he was gone with a sweep of jet hair and a light squeeze on her shoulder.

They would never talk thus again, but Rukia would always treasure his confidences and his consent within her very soul.

999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

Byakuya acquiesced to the slow churn and comfort from the folds of his downy futon. His eyes closed, his muscles relaxed, and a great sigh filled the air about and around him. He felt cleansed in many ways. Many years had passed since he had relived the days in which he had found and fallen in love with Hisana. He could not bring himself to tell more, so much of it had been knitted into the caverns of his heart, it would be lethal to sever the secrets there. He felt comforted, though still quite burdened with Rukia's choice in her love…though, he reflected, this might have been how his father had felt upon hearing his high, noble, proud son would be betrothed to a girl of no consequence picked up off the streets of Roukongai.

_Hisana_, he let himself breathe her name again, as if she were still lying next to him in the dark, the nimble folds of their marriage bed. In the soft dusk of his closed lids, he saw her lying there, peaceful and warm in sleep. Her hair spread around her like a veil, wrapping his fingers in cold balm; her smell like spices, her pink lips luring his body closer and closer.

"_I can not understand you my lord. Do you mean you wish to marry me, a beggar fostered in such a great house ?"_

Those words. Her disbelief at his proposal after merely knowing one another a few days.

"_Byakuya. Hold me. I'm drained of life here in my own hell…my penance. Will it ever be enough to search and search and know I have failed in my duties? Hold me. Hold me before I am swallowed into ice!"_

She was always so frightened of judgment. She had so many demons….

But then, so did he. He was scattered and confused without her…and the endless echoes of her voice in this room reverberated around him.

He remembered the feeling of her head pressed against his chest, the nuzzling beauty of her nose pressed into his side. He yearned to feel the skin of her wrist and the underside of her arm…the softest parts of flesh he had ever known as pliable and precious as the soft petals of orchid blossoms, the pollen of his bloom. He remembered her soft laughter when he pressed his lips to her neck. He made her smile. It was so rare to see her smile. She….she made him laugh, cry, speak incessantly, and dance. Things he never did outside the confines of their room. They were whole for each other and broken the minute they parted.

So what was left of Byakuya now?

He was now committed to protecting Rukia, to serving his family as Captain of the 6th Squad. But, what had happened to the part of him that was cultivated by Hisana? Perhaps it still existed when he lay here, in the great room of the Kuchiki-manor, pretending that the past was present and he could pull Hisana's porcelain body flush against his own and enter her, enter into the cosmic ocean of her being and move against it, tearing his heart with each plunge.

If his heart burst at the sudden remembrance hat he was indeed alone, then let that be. If his eyes clouded with tears at the coldness of the futon, let that be. If what was left of Hisana decided to love as recklessly and as hastily as he had, then let that be. It would have been as Hisana had wanted. He had not forgotten that day, his first meeting with Ichigo. He had not forgotten the tears in Rukia's eyes as she looked down on the injured boy. He had not forgotten how they mirrored his own eyes as he had looked on the broken girl in the wilderness.

He turned in his bed, laying a hand on the empty space that Hisana had occupied for well over five years. It still smelt of her. He breathed in with vigor and despair.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

She wasted no time.

The minute Byakuya-nii-sama had swept from the room, Rukia shut the large tome she had let rest on her lap and returned it to its place. Then, as if hell were at her heels, she had run to her bedchamber and hastily put on her emerald robe. Without even a look in the mirror, she sprung from her quarters and lunged into the streets of Sereite, urgently seeking Captain Ukitake and passage into the world of the living.

After what seemed like a frantic hour, Rukia managed to step foot into the world of the living, hastily entering her gigai and rushing toward the Kurosaki clinic as beads of sweat began to gather at her brow and slither down her face to pool in the cracks where her neck met her small shoulders.

"Where's the fire Rukia-chan?" shouted a bemused and inquisitive Urahara Kisuke, as the demure but devilish Shinigami hurried past him, all but jumping out of the small shoten and running west to her destination.

Her return to Soul Society after the long battle in Hueco Mundo had been camouflaged to the Kurosaki household as a winter break excursion to visit relatives in Nagasaki. Yet, arriving several days before scheduled, Rukia let herself in with her newly acquired key. It was late in the world of the living as it was in the world of spirits. Not quite 2 AM, by human time measuring. She gathered her resolve and gracefully leapt up the stairs and made her way to the last room, Ichigo's room, the room with the 15. Ichi-go.

She paused for only a moment, her brow furrowed and tense. Her fingers gripped the brass knob as she silently debated on whether this was the right way to go about things…but the ghost passed from her face and serenity and deliberation set in, she turned the knob and entered the dark room.

As she had expected, Ichigo slept, sprawled spread eagle on his bed. His hands rested against his stomach, his hair danced on the white surface of the pillow. He looked peaceful and young against the silver glow of moonlight and fluorescent street lamps that seeped in through his window. She made her way over to the bed, her expression softening instantly. She had been waiting for this particular moment forever.

Taking his sleeping hand in hers, she squeezed. He remained sleeping, merely grunting a subconscious assent to her touch.

"Ichigo, wake up."

That was enough. He bolted upwards, hands gripping the sheets. His eyes barely opened, and Rukia noticed a thin sheen of sweet on his face as he managed the most eloquent "Wazzamatta!" she had ever heard uttered from him when woken unexpectedly from sleep.

"Rukia!" His eyes immediately widened.

"Ichigo, I know it's late." She paused, expecting him to interrupt, but apparently he was so shocked to see her sitting on his bed that he had not quite thought up an exclamation.

"I know that we've said that a romantic relationship was impossible now…because of the war…because of my brother." Her tone was matter of fact, professional, but her heart raced within her chest, protesting her calm demeanor, begging her to tremble, teasing her to reach out and demand he hold her.

He still gapped at her, ape-like in his confusion.

"But…I think the war should actually be a reason why we just give into it. I can't stand it anymore…I've had my fill. I stayed silent and passive with Kaien-dono. I didn't rightly understand the feelings I was having myself. I…I let him slip from me…so many times…I've confined my heart so closely that now I can't breathe without…without you. I want to do it right this time around Ichigo. I've loved you for a long time…and now…I can't…I can't keep hiding inside myself like a scared child. I'm a woman. I'm a Shinigami. I can embrace my feelings for you without feeling ashamed."

"Rukia…I…I have wanted you…" His hand reached for her own, taking it firmly. "But…we both know that your family will never allow it…we both know Soul Society would never allow it." He squeezed her porcelain finger tips with a solemn expression and furrowed brow carving shadows into the planes of his face. Rukia smiled.

"Ichigo, a very strange thing happened tonight. I'm not sure you will believe it…"

777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777

Byakuya meandered through the halls of his own house, a house that did not fit, just as a glove for too large a hand, a kimono with too wide a girth. As always, he found himself in the large room which held the shrine to Hisana. Her likeness, one of the few he had, stood alone in the large mahogany cabinet, incense and flowers adorning the shelves below her. Here he could meditate; concentrate clearly as if he were at peace with the turn of fortune's wheel.

Meditation always brought out Senbonzakura who now, conquered by hi will, is placid and kind, teaching new things even in maturity. In the hours of introspection, Byakuya turns to Sebonzakura for strength and always receives it.

"It was good of you to speak of such things with others…others, that is, not only me." Byakuya's eyes closed and re-opened. Now his sight was inundated with her flowing pink hair, strands of pink, nothing but loosely connected cherry blossoms floating evanescent through the air, tickling the night-light, reflecting off Byakuya's stern face. Byakuya's soul slayer was no baboon, no ice dragon, no rogue, overtly virile figure. Senbonzakura was a beautiful nymph of the forest, the spirit of a living Cherry Blossom tree, who was beautiful and deadly. Her eyes were stars, her lips milky transparent, petals like cloth spread out in an all-knowing grin.

She sat opposite Byakuya on the tatami mat. Her legs curled under her like a translucent Buddha, her eyes like starry water spiraling endlessly in the light she cast. Byakuya could see through her body, his eyes studying the details of the shrine of Hisana.

"You were persistent." his reply.

"Would you like to re-enter the world of your soul, Byakuya. Would you like the opportunity to once again see your beloved if only she is a vapor of what once was." She leaned in, her glittering smoke brushing against Byakuya's hands which clung tightly to his knees. The smell of sakura was strong within his nostrils, sticky on hiss brain.

For months, since Rukia's pardoning, Byakuya had not only meditated with his Soul Slayer, but traveled deep into the depths of his inner-spiritual world. For Byakuya, this had not been done since his obtaining of bankai. Usually, to re-enter this realm meant that the soul was training…yet Senbonzakura was more subtle, and her invasions of Byakuya's soul yielding visions, memories, reshaping of images in Byakuya's memory. In essence, it was if Byakuya could travel back in time and relive his days with Hisana.

For a moment, he paused, intently pouring his eyes over the pink tendrils of the nymph's hair. He reached out and lightly brushed his finger against the cool kiss of her body.

"You know what it is that I am seeking. You know it before I know it. You are, after all, the most devoted tenant of my own world."

The hint of a smile crossed the petal kissed landscape of her lips and suddenly she was no longer Senbonzakura. Suddenly, she was no longer luminescent. She was meek, nimble, small, and seraphic. The room faded to grey mist and Hisana, his dead wife, sat before him...her eyes the only thing changed about her living self. Her eyes, rather than their usual violet, glimmered pink...as if living petals revolved around the glass of her eye.

Byakuya knew it was not her. Yet. He could not stop his hand from reaching out, trembling as it always did, to touch her.

"Make me forget what it felt like to lose you." he whispered, his eyes shutting.

She never spoke...but her touch was always genuine, accurate. It felt like Hisana's barely there touch against his skin when the pale hands pulled him to her.

Teach me about myself. He would say it over and over again in his mind...when he looked at Hisana then, when he looked at her now.

And somewhere, he felt the cold chill of night fail, and warmth invade his body like fire.


	2. Chapter 2

There was silk. It enveloped his body. There was water, it circulated through his warm heart, cooling the fury of love making. Byakuya laid back against the softness of the void that was his vision and the air above him oscillated back and forth, a current of night breath, the ghost of Hisana brushing vapor against his skin. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was as real to him now as she had been years ago. Her skin glimmered, milky in fabricated moonlight. Her eyes almond shaped and violet colored, slightly glowing under the veil of her endless raven hair. He had done this nearly every time they made loved, both in the past, and with the phantom he caressed now. Wether actual or artificial, he reached out and took the tendrils of long hair in his hands and pulled. He pulled her back down to him and kissed her lips with all the breath and energy he had in him. It was the only time he became rough with her, in moments of passion like this one.

Except now, after the kiss, it was not Hisana's light sparkle of laughter that littered the air with delight, but Senbonzakura's deep, babbling giggle that sounded more like a rapid spring than a woman. She may take Hisana's shape, her likeness, but rarely could Senbonzakura imitate the voice of Hisana, the true essence of what had passed away forever. After the years that had passed, Byakuya had begun to adjust to this difference, and merely kept his hands planted in the figure's hair, feasting his eyes on the image he sorely missed in his waking hours.

"She looks so much like you, Hisana. She is your mirror image in every way, though she is strong...very physically strong. Health is something you'd always lack. I believed that to look at you...and feel as I felt taking all of you in, I was the only true spirit alive in the world. That no other could truly live, because the could not see you as I saw you. But now, I know, though I do not readily admit it, that Kurosaki Ichigo will also look into these same eyes and become undone from the inside out. How funny that my destiny seems tied to that insolent boy."

The violet gaze of Senbonzakura darkened, and for a moment she did not carry the likeness of Hisana well. The memory of Zangetsu's shattering bite that had at once broken her power disturbed her still.

"He is a strong soul. His bite is ice against even the most beautiful and powerful of zanpakuto's." She then regained her rouse, the lines of Hisana's face settled, as a pool of water quiets after the ripples die and are silent.

She brought her lips down onto Byakuya's chest and slowly made penance against the layers of flesh within his mind. Her touch felt just like Hisana. Her smell, just like Hisana, he brought his arms around the small body that he knew was not Hisana, and let his consciousness disappear, and his instincts control his movements.

When the kissing moved from his chest to his thighs, he felt his entire body flush red, reaching down he encouraged her on. In his mind he imagined that this moment was real, and as he moved his hips with the rhythm of her bobbing head, he felt like a piece of him died every time he put himself through such torture.

"Hisana..."

666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666

Rukia slammed Ichigo's head with a stunning left hook.

"You imbecile! Don't you understand what I'm telling you!!"

The force of Rukia's fist eating Ichigo's face knocked the boy backwards against the head-post of his bed. The dull thud seemed to reverberate across the dark bedroom, and at first, Ichigo was so stunned by the sharp pain, he could not reply.

"I don't want to hear anymore of your weakling excuses! You've no longer got a choice in the matter. I love you! I have Nii-sama's blessing! I'm ready to move forward!" She was standing now, glaring daggers at Ichigo's chest, too shocked and afraid to look him in the eye, despite her exterior front.

"Rukia..." her stammered. Ichigo's head felt as it if might implode. He felt conflicted in every possible way. He had been denying himself Rukia for so long, convincing his stubborn mule of a brain that to touch her, to love her, to allow his body to melt inside of her, would bring about the most disastrous consequences imaginable. Byakuya would cut him down, Renji would strangle him, Orihime would be hurt, his sisters would be shocked, his Father would find all and every means to embarrass him...her must not give into the want, the yearning, the need to feel Rukia, to know her deeper and more concretely than ever before.

Now. Here she was telling him that she loved him. Here she was telling him that she brought blessings and confidence that they could make it together as more than mere comrades.

And he felt terrified, frozen in place.

"I don't want to hurt you Rukia." He trembled..."I don't want you to hurt because of me...I'm scared of not being strong enough for you."

Rukia let out a resounding sigh and connected her foot with Ichigo's head once again.

"Ichigo! How could you fear such a stupid thing. Was it not you that defied the Gotei 13 and all of Soul Society? Was it not you who stood up to Aizen? How could you fear weakness?"

She knelt down beside him, finally becoming soft in her dazed humor. Ichigo's brow was furrowed as usual, his skin taught with stress. She reached out her fingers and flattened his hair against the sides of his head, willing his eyes to meet hers.

"Ichigo. I'm not afraid anymore. Let me show you."

The kiss, their first, was velvety soft and achingly slow.

555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555

Renji had not seen or heard from his captain in over three days. This was highly unusual for Byakuya Kuchiki to not attend meetings, briefings, or oversee important procedures conducted by the sixth squad. He had now missed a captain's meeting called by Yammamoto-taichou himself. The servants had willingly let him inter into the Kuchiki manor, but even this search had resulted in disappointment and expanding concern.

Where was Kuchiki-taichou?

He had last been seen in the gardens of the Kuchiki manor, muttering softly to himself...

What had happened.

Renji let his rietsu crawl across the grounds, slither through the cracks and crevices of rooms and corners...but still, not sign, no impression that Byakuya had been in these rooms for several days.

"I must tell Rukia." He let himself mutter to the empty house. "It seems, we have a kidnapping on our hands."

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 3

Ichigo tried to slow his heart, his breath. He willed the muscles in his body to relax, to not contract, tremble at the pace he had involuntarily set as he thrust his whole body into Rukia. He was young, it was his first time. He knew that he wouldn't last much longer, and the thought embarrassed him. He had never felt like this in his life. So alive, completely aware of his body, his surroundings, and the feel of Rukia's hair on his his bare chest. Each movement was an ebb, each sound a flow, and the motion of their love making beat against the sands of his consciousness--a different sort of ocean.

But he couldn't make this divine sensation at sea last much longer, he let go and let himself pour utterly out.

And then her lips were on his eyes, paying special attention to the details of his eye brows. Her voice was humming in his ears, lulling him to sleep--and he no longer felt ashamed.

"You've always been in a hurry." She whispered tiredly into his neck. He groaned, unable to move. She had sucked all the energy out of him.

"Next time, I'll let you have your way." His lips felt like rubber.

"Mmm..." apparently she also was too sated to speak. Her fingers merely danced across his skin. Rukia found it shocking to believe not not long ago, she had sat on the floor of the Kuchiki library, reading about her sister...and now she was here, naked in Ichigo's bed and all the frustration she had been feeling for over a year had rushed out of her like a water, inundated the room with sweat and sex.

She loved him, but didn't understand her love. She had never felt so strongly about a person in all her many years. She had never been so undone--and as she let her mind wander, she thought that maybe this was how it had been for Byakuya Nii-sama...as he looked down at poor, helpless Hisana and found his soul uncoiling out of the tight spring...flattening out, opening up, and letting her heart be trampled by love for another.

She closed her eyes.

She thought she smelled cherry blossoms in the air.

5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555

Renji had come all this way, stopped by Urahara's shouten to procure a gigai, and even bought several bentou boxes from the local combini. All in effort to find Rukia and Ichigo, the two he knew he could count on to help him discover the whereabouts of his captain. As of yet, Yamamoto-taichou did not think it necessary to raise any kind of alarm, but Renju knew there was something more to this than met the eye. Rukia would believe him.

But the bento boxes soon were forgotten, as well as thoughts of Byakuya Kuchiki when Renji lept deftly up to the window sill of Ichigo's bedroom, his heart stopped and his scarlet eyes quivered in their sockets.

"Rukia."

Byakuya could not move. He was bolted down as if nailed to the tatami-matted floor. She was angry, livid...this test was the most severe of all. His fingers were bleeding, his rietsu was pulsing with the pain of captivity.

Senbonzakura was holding him hostage.


End file.
